


Three Scenes that Will Never Make It into the Special Features (No Matter How Many Versions They Release)

by Lyrastar



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Multi, Porn, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 22:32:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrastar/pseuds/Lyrastar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The request was for porn. I aim to please.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Scenes that Will Never Make It into the Special Features (No Matter How Many Versions They Release)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [broken gravity (brokengravity)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=broken+gravity+%28brokengravity%29), [brokengravity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokengravity/gifts).



She probably should go home soon—or at least go in, Zoe thought, as to her left, Zach cannonballed into his pool. But this was close to her favorite way to feel. With too much sun and almost too much Bacardi Breezer, everything just felt good against her skin.

Everything just felt good.

Zach pulled himself out of the pool and hovered, dripping over her lounge chair. He picked up his two empties from the deck. "I'm going in to get another beer. Get you anything?"

She shaded her eyes from the bright. Just a little longer wouldn't hurt. She flipped over onto her stomach, enjoying the rub of the terry towel and the rush of blood to her shoulder blades as they flushed to the beat of the sudden rays.

"Yeah," she said. "Do my back." Languidly she waggled one hand to the sunscreen bottle on the cement.

He sat down on the edge and let the bottles clatter to the deck.

"Careful! The chair'll tip."

"It won't," he said. "I've done this before."

"Mmm. With plenty of girls, I bet."

He didn't answer. Was one required? "Move over," was what he said and nudged soggy trunks against her hip.

"Uugh," she said and slid to the other edge. She wriggled to get comfortable amid the wrinkles of the towel and the lounge chair slats. She heard the scrape of the bottle against the cement, the flip of the cap, the squoosh of the lotion as it flowed out and into his palm. She waited for his touch, but when it came, she bucked. "You're cold and wet!" she squealed.

"It'll warm up," Zach said. He began soft circles around her skin.

There was an edge of anticipation, wondering where contact would fall next. At first she tense and jumped each time, but soon his hand was as warm as her back. The circles became larger, moving over her ribs, her blades, her curves, caressing and encompassing with an almost possessive strength the full span of her neck until every spot had been covered and slicked more thoroughly than a film studio's legal release.

Still, the fingers moved compulsively about her skin. They paused at her bikini back. Then they undid the clip. Then the halter neck clip too.

She shimmied her body to let the material fall away.

Just fingertips brushed the side of one breast, and she gasped.

It had been a while since she'd been touched like this. She'd forgotten how alive it made you feel.

It was funny, she'd just kind of assumed Zach was gay, but his breathing was heavy and raspy now and the heat of his hip boiled beneath the wet swim trunks and burned where it pressed even harder against her flesh. His hands moved with a fervor that clearly had less and less to do with pleasing her, and she wondered if he had anywhere near as bad a hard-on as she did.

She rolled over onto her back.

He did.

She settled herself into the mold of the chair, being sure to let her breasts jiggle and her right hand flop high atop his thigh, as if there was nowhere else for it to go.

"Now do my front," she said.

He grasped her waist with two oiled hands and rhythmically pushed them up and down, just barely wisping backs and knuckles against the bottoms of her breasts each time.

People called her tiny, but she never felt small unless she was with a man like this. His hands wrapped fully around her, holding her, making her aware that he could choose to shelter her with his body or break her in two at will.

The sun had moved down almost to the top of the fence. How long had they been at this? His trunks were almost dry, and her crotch was soaking wet. Still he caressed her thighs, her ribs, shoulders, like some opposite version of the Chinese water torture, always stopping just before the best part of her breasts and groin. She moved her hand up the leg of his trunks and to his dick.

He shuddered and moved his hands even faster, but still refused to touch her where she craved. Finally he cupped hands around her breasts and leaned his pelvis in against her.

She cried out and writhed with how good it felt.

"That's it. Move for me," Zach panted.

"What?"

"Move for me. I love to watch you move." He leaned back again, his gaze taking in the length of her, his hands working around her breasts.

Not the nipples, but the curvy part she liked.

"How should I move?" Zoe asked. She thrust with her hips and felt more sticky run between her lips.

"Any way. I could watch you move all day."

Zach's hands moved as if mesmerized, and Zoe undulated under them.

"Oh god," Zach said. He pulled one hand away and stuffed it down his trunks.

"I'll do that," Zoe said. She reached beneath his waist band. Not teasing now, she began to stroke for real.

But the little cries he made were too much for her; she couldn't hold him there. She was too empty inside.

She needed it too much.

"I've got a condom in my bag," she whispered and gestured with her one free hand.

That seemed to snap something. Zach stopped cold. In moments like that, he scared her enough to see how he got the weird jobs he did.

She let go his penis and tried to clear her head enough to comprehend.

"Zoe, I don't date," he said. His hands were off her breasts, but still resting chastely above her hips.

Of course. She'd heard the rumors, but had been in Hollywood too long to believe them out of hand.

She waited for the expected qualifying noun, but none came.

"Okay. So, what do you do?" she asked.

"Just about anything I can get away with," Zach said with a rueful grin. "That's one of the reasons I don't date."

_All right. That's cool. This could still work._ "If I promise not to think of it as a date, will you fuck me silly?"

"I don't know if this is a good idea. We've got to work-- If this goes well, we could be working together for the next ten years. More. You could be married by then. Have kids."

"Believe me, I don't want to have your kids."

"Girls get weird about stuff like this."

"And guys don't?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "Pretty much they just want to get off."

"Got it," she said. "Try thinking of me as your best bud. Because I really, really, really want to get off." She rippled her body for him.

He made a feral sound deep in his throat, and she knew that he was hers again.

He put his mouth to her breasts and bathed each one with his tongue. The sensation was so unexpected she bucked again.

When she did, he lifted her pelvis with his hands and slid her bikini bottom down.

"Wait," she said. "I have to pee."

"Don't," he said and slid two fingers inside. He pressed up and vibrated them deliberately against the roof of her cunt. It wasn't enough, she wanted to tell him 'more,' but the sensation kept moving and changing until was right up against that magic spot. His gaze was glued to her face, "Move for me, move for me," and she rocked up against him as if no pressure there could ever be hard enough.

Every muscle she possessed waited, tense and clenched. She was so full now, she couldn't tell how much of his hand he had inside, but fingers also worked her clit and she was sure she was going to go insane or die if she didn't come soon. She couldn't relax, she had to pee so bad, but with every thrust, every push inside of her, the pressure on her bladder grew more until she knew she knew she was going to explode.

She tried to warn him, but no words would form and he vibrated inside of her now, as fast as he could chanting hypnotically for her to move. She clamped down with all she had to stop the pee, but the tension pushed her over the edge, and she came with a scream to scare the neighbors, contracting wildly around his fingers until she curled up in a fetal position in his arms and lap.

Laughing, she gasped to get her breath.

But he pushed her away, almost roughly. He fell to his knees on the sun-baked cement. He turned away from her, closed his eyes and tugged himself a couple times hard. She heard him choke as he shot his wad in spasms all over his shorts and hand.

He bent over and knelt, gasping, forehead pressed down almost to his knees.

"Hey," she crawled up beside him and touched his back. Like a startled deer, he flinched away.

She draped an arm around him. More sober than she wanted to be, she was more than a little worried now. From behind she kissed his cheek. "Hey, that was fun."

He took a deep breath like he did before a big take. He patted her hand and straightened a bit. "Yes, it was. Thank _you._" He smiled and kissed her properly, and she realized that was the first time.

She caressed his face and studied him. Men were most real after an orgasm, but with actors you could never tell. "Do you ever let anyone in?" she asked. "Anyone?"

He turned to her. "Why do you think I wanted to play Spock?" he said.

"Okay," she said and let him go. She collected her suit and towel. It had to be after four. The best of the sun was gone.

"Zoe," he said, sounding entirely like himself again. "We're shooting the turbolift on Tuesday."

She knew that.

"Are we going to be all right?"

"I told you, my side's good," she said. She stood on tiptoes to kiss his lips again.

They were more than all right. J.J. applauded after their first take.

* * *

 

"I just had sex in the bathroom," Zach said.

Chris choked on his drink but recovered in time to make it look smooth. Almost smooth.

Zoe whooped and gave Zach a high-five. "Who with?" She scanned around the floor. The blond in the white T and Levis would be Zach's type. Or maybe the Ziggy Stardust look-a-like.

Zach shook his head. "Wouldn't recognize him." He paused and reconsidered, "At least not by his face."

"Do you guys do that a lot?" Chris asked. The skill of his voice work made it clear that was you collective, not you singular and not even you two standing here.

"Depends how you define 'a lot,'" Zach said. "A lot of sex is quantitatively different from a lot of dental work."

"So the basic answer is yes?" Chris put down his beer and signaled the barkeep for one more.

Zach shrugged. "If you could have sex whenever you wanted, wouldn't you?"

"If?" Chris sounded ready to play along. "Listen, I--"

"Jealous?" Zoe elbowed Chris in the ribs, aborting the incipient ungentlemanly boast. "Thinking of changing teams?" She jostled him again.

"Why does everyone just assume I'm straight?" Chris twisted away. Maybe it was just that Zoe's elbow was a lot more dangerous than it looked, but he sounded decidedly less playful now.

"The ass."

"The hair." That was Zoe.

"What's wrong with my--?"

"The shoes." Behind Chris's left shoulder, a drag queen gave an apologetic shrug and pretended to mind her own business again.

"Now that's just stupid. You can't tell sexual preference from somebody's shoes," Chris said.

Zoe rolled her eyes. "Are you sure you're not really from Iowa?" she asked.

This was their last night in Manhattan. The club had been Zach's idea. He'd been moping lately about the movie's imminent release and something Leonard had said about the loss of freedom that iconic fame would bring.

He'd sounded pitiful when he'd made his pitch. For old time's sake and he might never get to come here again. Zoe'd never been, but any place with hot dance music was okay with her. Not being hassled by men all night was a little added plus.

Chris had been pushing for Touch or 40/40, but it was two to one so he accepted the verdict with aplomb. Zoe was pretty proud of him for how he was holding up. In fact, his biggest gripe seemed to be not being the prettiest guy in the place.

"Come on," Zoe grabbed Chris's wrist to pull him towards the dance floor. "Let's dance."

"Zach, you coming?" Chris set down his drink.

"Already did," laughed Zoe.

"Nah," Zach propped up at the table for a better view. "I'd rather watch."

"Suit yourself," Chris said, and let Zoe pull him out into the throng of men.

The beat was jamming, the lights were spinning, and Zoe loved any chance to perform. The glitz, the rhinestones--since she was a little girl, she had known this was the kind of place she was meant to be. The sequins of her slip dress shimmered under the strobes with every move. She could command the room if they played this right. She stepped up the moves, daring Chris to keep up with her.

"Work it, girl!" the crowd urged her on, and soon they were dirty dancing in a way that would have had to be censored for network TV.

Chris's eyes were glued to her body and she could tell he was once again thinking about boning her, even if he was the only guy in the room who was. She felt his iron as she ground her ass up against him. He held her hips longer and longer each time before he let her go.

There was a tap on her shoulder: a Goliath of a bouncer. There was another one behind Chris.

"Sir. Miss. We have to ask you to tone it down. You're making our other patrons uncomfortable."

"What do you mean 'uncomfortable?'" Zoe flared.

"There's guys having sex in the bathroom, and you're picking on us?" Chris said.

"That's right," Goliath No. 2 said. "This club is for persons of a certain lifestyle to feel at ease, and you're flaunting a different one. There're plenty of places you can go to do that, so either tone it down or leave."

"Wait a minute. You're throwing us out for acting too straight?" Zoe flared. She didn't sound so little now. Any beautiful girl who had to ride the NYC subway for ten years could certainly handle a little spat like this.

"I'm telling you that you're welcome to stay to enjoy Splash Bar and everything that makes it unique, as long as you respect and preserve that."

"Wait just a damn minute." Chris was sounding a little sloppy now, and Zoe started to wonder just how many beers he'd had. "You talk about respect and equality and wanting to be treated the same. Well, we are the same. You have no fucking right to come over here--"

"Chris--" Zoe laid a hand on his arm, but he shook her off. Zoe scouted the crowd for Zach, but he was already on his way.

"--and start making assumptions about who we are or what we think or believe, just because we're having a little fun that affects no one--no one besides us." He threw a finger in Goliath's face.

Goliath reached for Chris's upper arm.

"I'm with him," Zach said and interposed himself between the two just as Goliath No. 1 looked ready to manhandle Chris out. "There's no problem here," Zach said. He threw an arm around his shoulders. "Right, Chris?"

Chris glared, but said nothing.

Zoe's eyes darted between the four.

"You two need to take your boyfriend home."

Zoe got on Chris's other side. "We're going."

"It's not right," Chris said but it was all resignation and no fight.

"Maybe it wasn't before, but it is now," Zach said.

"We're sorry," said Zach in that quirky, self-effacing way he had that made people want to thank him when he had just called them idiots in fancier terms. They moved toward the door.

"No biggie," one of the Goliaths said. "We all have our issues to work through. I used to be a Marine."

In the taxi back seat, Chris apologized. "I'm sorry for screwing up your farewell fling." He tried for the rueful jest. "I must be channeling Kirk or something. Minus the bloody nose."

"It's all right," said Zach. He seemed to get the joke. "The place wasn't all that I remember it as."

They rolled up Lex in silence.

"How did you know?" Chris asked at last.

"What?"

"How'd you know?" Chris repeated. "About you."

They both knew what he meant.

Zach shook his head. "There's no answer to that. How do you know the sky's blue. You just grow up knowing that's the way it is."

"But the sky's not blue," Zoe said from where she leaned against Chris's chest. "It's black, and grey, and indigo, and blue, and white. It all depends."

"Exactly," said Zach. "Labels don't matter. It is what it is. And you know what it is even if you don't know what label goes with it, and there'd be a lot less confused kids running around if we stopped trying to tell them the sky's blue. A three-year-old can see the sky for himself."

Chris pulled Zoe tighter to him, and they rode in silence the rest of the way.   


* * *

 

Piled on Zach's sofa at three A.M., the pressure finally became too much. Zoe lazed, her head cradled between Zach's lap and stomach, long legs stretched out, her calves draped over Chris's thighs.

"Rub me," she'd teased and waggled her bare feet against his groin.

Chris too was playful at first, but somewhere along the way the tenor changed, and each stroke of his thumb only made her think of getting laid.

She squirmed, what she hoped would be discreetly, and felt Zach's erection filling out beside her face. She could smell it though the fabric, feel the warmth against her cheek. If she stuck her tongue out, she could lick it.

Zach dropped a hand down, and softly began to stroke her hair.

Zoe smelled of sex, she knew it. She wondered if the guys could tell it too.

"Zach?" Chris said, his voice full and thick. An inch or two from where her foot had been, a solid rod stood outlined at his fly. "Were you serious?"

"What?" Zach's response came out breathy too.

"At Bruce's. That time when you hit on me: did you mean it, and would you still want to?"

Zach barked an uneasy laugh and Zoe had to wonder how long Zach'd been carrying that particular torch. "Well, you haven't gotten any uglier. Not much uglier, at least."

"Good," Chris said. He undid his fly and his penis popped out proud and free in a way that made Zoe flush to imagine how it would feel inside.

"Because right now, something's gotta give." Chris pressed the arch of Zoe's foot into the crease of his leg, threw his head back, and with his right hand, he began to stroke.

"Not here." Zach stood. His own fly looked pressed to the extreme. "I have stuff in the bedroom." Peeling off his shirt as he walked, he led the way.

Zoe lost track of what was where, fingers, hands, dicks and tongues. She saw for the first time what guys saw in girl/girl acts. But these were her best friends, and this was real. It was almost too much to assimilate.

Every time she moved it was a new sensory experience—someone caressing her some place new. Everywhere she looked someone was being penetrated somewhere, with fingers, tongues or dicks.

She didn't think she'd ever been quite so turned on before.

"Can I touch you?" Zach whispered to her when he thought Chris wasn't listening.

Zoe couldn't help herself. She grinned. She'd wanted to know if he still thought of her that way. "I want you to," she murmured and placed his palm against her mound.

He slipped fingertips to her slit and she shuddered, expecting to feel those hands work their magic inside of her again. She was so wet that it made noise as he stirred her. She craved him, bucked up to meet him, but instead he pulled his legs under him, rose to his knees, and before she knew it, his full length was inside of her.

Deep-dicking was nice, but with a condom it wasn't the same; it was almost too smooth, not enough--well-- feeling, Zoe supposed.

Zach changed positions, his face flushed. He concentrated, determined not to come before her, but Zoe couldn't get close enough.

"Use your fingers," she whispered to him.

Zach pulled out, and they both whimpered at their loss.

Then he slammed three fingers up her, and god help her, Zoe actually saw stars. She felt the orgasm build. "God, yes, right there," she pleaded as she rocked harder into his hand.

"Stop it, man!" Zach blurted out. Chris was busy feeling him up from behind. Chris's hands were on his nipples and Chris's lubed dick slid over his back and ass.

"I can't hold it if you--"

"So don't," Chris said. "I want to watch you come." Using Zach's crack like a hot dog bun; Chris thrust up and down between the cheeks.

Zach's hand vibrated faster as he tried to hold on, and Zoe came with a strangled remains of what she'd thought would be a scream. Zach yanked off the condom and gave it up into his own hand, then he mounted Chris's dick with his mouth and sucked until Chris had nothing left to give.

By the time he cleaned up and looked around, Chris was eating Zoe out. He kept at it until she came again.

If someone was tired, the other likely was not. It was the kind of marathon session you usually only got on holiday or Sunday mornings once you were in the real world and had a job. Before it was over, she came two or three times more. She watched Chris's face as he came inside her with Zach sucking his balls from behind, watched Zach jerk himself to the edge, rubbing his dick against Chris's thigh and leg.

Chris reached back with one hand and broke Zach's strokes. "Asshole, don't you dare come yet!"

Chris hunched up more and dropped to his elbows in preparation to get soundly fucked with Zoe still on her back beneath him. She was so tiny she barely took up any room at all. They lay, nipples brushing nipples, nearly face to face. He grinned at her conspiratorially as one mere moments away from being inducted into her secret club.

He closed his eyes and waited.

Behind them Zach was busy with a fresh condom and his half-gallon-with-the-pump jug of lube.

"Zach, don't be an asshole. Don't make me beg."

"I'd like to hear you beg," Zoe breathed, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. But Chris barely heard her for now Zach had a hold of his hips and was slowly but surely angling himself inside.

Chris's eyes flew open wide and he tried to speak, but only ragged pants came out from between his lips. He looked to her for help and flailed a hand. She grabbed it and he clung to her like a lifeline, wide eyes trained unfocused at her face.

"You okay?" Zach asked. His face was drawn tight, but he held himself rigid, determined to hold still.

Chris jerked his head in what looked to be more of a spasm than a nod and gripped her hand so hard it hurt. He closed his eyes, and his voice was so low only she would hear. "Don't let him stop," he managed to choke out.

Zoe knew that feeling well.

"We're fine," she told Zach, and slowly at first, like a pitcher winding up, Zach began to move.

Chris's body twitched and quivered, but he never let go of her hand.

Zoe strained her neck up and Chris kissed her, though it made a sloppy, off target mess. His body moved each time Zach slapped up against him, so they settled for sliding breasts and cheeks together.

Things grew slick and easier and Zach's thrusts came harder now. The motion pushed Chris forward, down atop her, and pressed them chest to chest. Chris made one grand, noble attempt to lift his weight off her but, "Stay here; I won't break. I like to feel you on me. It feels safe," she whispered instead.

Whether he stayed because he heard her or because he was too far gone for motor control she never knew. Zach had found his rhythm and was breathing hard. The weight of Chris's body thrust against her, and it was almost like Zach was fucking her through him.

"It's…getting bigger," Chris panted. His eyes were wide and incredulous again.

"I…swell…before…I…come."

Saying the words pushed him over and Zach's eyes rolled back in his head. He made an unearthly noise and blew. His right hand flew reflexively to hold the condom on even as he fell backwards to the bed. Zoe saw the tip pulse with the last spurt as Chris cried out at the sudden withdrawal and collapsed in a sprawl on top of her.

When he could, he rolled off to the side. They lay panting and cooling each in their separate place.

After that, what was left to say?

Zoe was the first to recover. She tossed Zach a towel and pulled the sweaty sheet up. "I get the middle," she said.

"This time," Chris said, "because you called it. That doesn't mean it's a rule." He kissed her on the cheek and took the outside spoon, wrapping strong arms around her.

"Hey now, my bed, my rules!"

"Okay, fine. You pick," Zoe said. "What's it going to be?"

"Middle, of course." With sort of a bounce, Zach interjected himself between them and spooned up, kicking, elbowing and generally jostling Chris as much as possible in the process.

"This is a raw deal, me getting stuck with your hairy ass all night." Still, Chris nuzzled tight against him, peppering his hairy shoulder blade with little pecks.

Zach chuckled. "It is what it is," he said.


End file.
